


Science of a Dream

by bad_pigeon



Category: Strange the Dreamer Series - Laini Taylor
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Angst, Biting, Cock Warming, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Hand Jobs, LAZLO HAS A THING FOR EARS, M/M, Mutual Pining, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom, chapter 1 is sexual tension, ear biting, i havent read muse of nightmares so no spoils plz, it wouldn't be my own fic without some angst in it, its canon i swear, nippleplay, sarai who?, there’s a bonus at the end, this is before sarai met lazlo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23999521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bad_pigeon/pseuds/bad_pigeon
Summary: Thyon has always hated Lazlo Strange.Or has he?Love and hate are a funny thing, two sides of the same coin. But is it really love? Or is it obsession? Thyon needs a way to figure out his feelings and goes down to the student library of their college to find Lazlo Strange, the source of all his problems. Thyon then forces Lazlo to give him the books he needs, telling the boy to deliver them to his dorm. But when Lazlo appears at the door, what kind of confrontation will develop between the two? Love or hate... or something in between...Aha, it's kinda a trash fic but plz enjoy. 0w0Preview: "This golden man, with appearances like that of an innocent child, was, in actuality, a ruthless snake waiting to strike the hand that grabbed what was his. He’d cling on, fangs bared, and bite you until you would let go. And even when he got what he wanted back in his obsession, you’d have already been poisoned."
Relationships: Thyon Nero/Lazlo Strange
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. In the library

Deep inside the stillness of the not-so-grandiose student library, a tall, golden male figure stooped over the librarian’s dark oak counter top. Through the small, compact windows, light filtered inside, spotlighting his entire being, making him look like the star that he had every right to be. The entire room remained silent, no one daring to talk. It wasn’t just—well, it was a library and there was an unspoken rule of quietness—it was mostly because of his presence. He seemed to stop the hearts of everyone near him, petrifying them into place, but not out of fear...

Of respect. _Worship_.

Just who was this man? Who else could make the world stop and bend to his will, like he was born for it to?

There was no one else who fit this description, except for one man; he was unlike any other student, and any other _man _before him. He alone could waver minds, or even mountains if possible. It wasn’t just his appearance, golden and lovely in every way gifted by God, it was his status, pedigree, ambition, charisma...etc. etc.__

____

____

The list went on and on and there was no bottom line; this man had it all.

It was like he was a child, pockets full of money from his noble father, wandering the open aisles of a candy store. Except that candy store was the rest of the province, and his noble father was a politician.

Yes, only someone like Thyon Nero could fit this description.

And it looked like he just spotted his favorite piece of candy.

Across the desk, staring rigidly, was an astonished looking boy, face agape and eyes so wide that his eyelashes fluttered up against his eyebrows. If someone were to walk by and only looked at his stupefied expression, they would think a _bomb _had just been dropped onto his lap. Still, that same person would walk the other way when they saw who that expression was directed towards.__

____

____

The boy had a rough appearance with lines of softness to him. His angled jawline slackened, letting his mouth hang open, cherry pink tongue in full view. His shoulder-length hair was tied up into a bun, a few strands framing his face and that ugly, crooked nose of his. Yet that still did not hinder the fact that this boy was rather good looking.

At least to Thyon.

It took a minute for the boy to vaguely remember where he was and whose company he was in. A pink flush sprouted on his ashen face, and he almost sputtered when he began to speak.

“Wha—I’m sorry, pardon me? Can you repeat that...” The boy’s voice, which contained the low timbre of uncertainty, sounded weak and feeble.

This librarian had actually heard him correctly the first time but wasn’t so sure the other knew what he was asking of him. He almost regretted asking Thyon Nero, _the Thyon Nero _, to doubt his own words and speak them again. Thinking about it closely, the librarian was lucky enough if the other didn’t point out his mistake.__

____

____

And lucky he was. Thyon caught on, but let it pass; _just this once _.__

____

____

“I said,” the golden man’s tone held a sharpness to it, like a knife trying to cut the other open, “Give me all the books you have on the philosophical theory of quantum mechanics. Throw in dimensional compositions when you have the time.”

Although the last part sounded like a suggestion, Thyon did not intend for it to be. The librarian knew this as well, and a slight shiver went up his spine. Finding a bit of courage, the other boy proceeded to kindly tell Thyon Nero the truth.

“Thy—Sir,” the other didn’t want to seem too forward, quickly correcting himself when he almost addressed Thyon’s name in public. Clearly, he shouldn’t speak so casually to him.

Yet he continued, “I’m sorry, but our library is rather limited when it comes to certain topics… T-the request you asked for isn’t c-currently in… It’s not one of the class requirements, so we don’t usually stock anything about that...”

Thyon Nero, this librarian knew, was not someone who gave up easily. When someone else takes away his candy, he’d just buy it back. Or worse, have his noble father take care of the problem for him. At least that’s what the rumors said. 

This golden man, with appearances like that of an innocent child, was, in actuality, a ruthless snake waiting to strike the hand that grabbed what was his. He’d cling on, fangs bared, and bite you until you would let go. And even when he got what he wanted back in his possession, you’d have already been poisoned. 

So, if you happened to be that unlucky hand, you should better hide now. Lest you wanted to lose a finger.

The librarian swallowed, his throat bobbing. He feared that he had just taken away Thyon’s candy. _When will Thyon strike him back? _This thought unnerved him, which was why the next few words felt overbearingly painful to hear.__

____

____

“You think I don’t know that already, Strange? What do you take me for? This is why I’m precisely asking you for them.” The golden man’s eyes bore down on Strange, feeling him out. _Strike _.__

____

____

“...” Strange felt sweat drip from the nape of his neck. He wasn’t used to being stared at, and so fervently. 

Lazlo Strange and his crooked nose, those were the only two things that were ever noticeable about him. That odd name, a name the butt of every joke, and a nose that attracted books, so much that one had promptly hit him squarely there. Other than those two things, he went unnoticed by his peers.

A sign could’ve been plastered on his face, and he would’ve been none the wiser. That was just the crutch of how invisible he truly was towards everyone else. Yet this was not true now, he felt the sign, and knowing this undid whatever defenses he had in front of this man, laying him completely bare. 

“W-what d-do you mean?”

“Don’t act coy with me, Strange. You’ve never been a good liar. I’ll ignore your little fib and just give you my list. Here, bring them to my dorm when you’ve collected them all.” 

From within Thyon’s trouser pockets, he pulled out a crisp slip of folded paper. Reluctantly, Lazlo reached out, a big mistake he soon realized. 

Once Lazlo’s coarse, calloused hand was exposed from behind the counter, the predatory side of the once innocent Thyon arose. Only, Lazlo couldn’t tell what he was in this scenario: candy or foe. For the gentle brush of their hands sent an electrifying chill down his entire being, leaving him stunned on the spot. 

_Candy, definitely candy _.__

____

____

Thyon refused to let go, firmly latching onto Lazlo’s hand even when the paper was turned over to him. Fingers teased, and Lazlo’s palmed itched relentlessly. Lazlo’s flush grew even more, an indicator for Thyon to make his next strike.

Breaking through the barrier the desk posed between them, Thyon leaned in and whispered into Lazlo’s ear. 

“Don’t give this to anyone else. You. Come. Alone.”

At this, Lazlo’s consciousness flailed, he felt like he was drowning in an endless pool of molasses. He felt the sickeningly sweet brush of Thyon’s lips against his cheek, the subtle way the other man’s breath made his ear tickle. Lazlo’s flush roamed down from his face to his neck, turning from pink to crimson.

_He is too easy _, Thyon reflected.__

____

____

With that, Thyon felt satisfied and left behind a bewildered Lazlo. Strange’s voice was caught up in his throat and his heart swelled in his chest. Rhythmic thumps crescendoed in his ears, cascading a delicious and dangerous kind of music.

Everything was magnified in that split second.

Yet around Lazlo, life resumed around him. 

A few girls, unable to speak when Thyon first arrived, squealed quietly in excitement. A teacher in the back bookshelf smiled to herself for being fortunate enough to see Thyon, a well-renowned student of hers, taking on more scholarly tasks after briefly overhearing his request. A few other students just complimented him in his wake.

Only the librarian was still unable to fully come back to his senses, his brain unable to function properly. He was terrified of what was expected of him… 

But he couldn’t have been more secretly thrilled in his heart at the same time.


	2. Complicated Feelings

In the past, another lifetime ago, Lazlo had met a boy, full of promises and glorious opportunities, while he himself was still a poor child making his way through a cruel world. Thyon, the other boy, had been Lazlo’s complete opposite. If Thyon Nero could be considered as the sunshine and liveliness of the day, then Lazlo could only be described as his foil: Thyon’s night that always followed from behind.

The disparity between their characteristics was blatantly obvious whenever they ended up meeting together, but Lazlo held no animosity towards the latter’s good fortune. 

Even after all these years, this realization didn’t deter Lazlo. He still did his best at everything… After all, there was always someone bound to be better than him. 

That person just happened to be _the_ Thyon Nero.

Ever since their first pinnacle meeting, Lazlo had always been accused of being “second best” compared to Thyon’s endless tirade of accomplishments. When Thyon did something worthy of praise, Lazlo found himself in the other’s shadow. Of course, no one really directly said that Lazlo was “second best” to his face, but he certainly felt the ridicule that was passed behind his back. 

Even when separated, Thyon still found a way to best him. Lazlo felt ridiculed when his teachers looked at him with contempt at every accomplishment. Sure, Lazlo was the valedictorian of his school, so that had to amount to something. However, the rival school, who housed Thyon Nero, was on a whole other level. Compared to the rival school’s most prized student, Lazlo was a joke and was not even in the same league… 

Lazlo had also felt the ridicule when he had finally managed to get into his dream university. He had worked excruciatingly hard, and he had even tossed everything he had into his job at the library and towards his studies. Yet Thyon Nero, a student there as well, gained numerous amounts of praise from his professors, as well as the other librarians, even though he’d never worked a day in his life there.

And then there was the ridicule that Lazlo felt whenever he had the off chance of being in Thyon’s presence. These two rarely often met, since Thyon was in a different department, which was a blessing in itself. However, each time they had gotten together out of coincidence—or if it had been Thyon consciously seeking Lazlo out—Lazlo still felt hopelessly insignificant. Being near Thyon had that kind of effect. It was as if Lazlo was no more than a bug that Thyon could squash between his high-end footwear. 

In the end, none of Lazlo’s efforts actually mattered, since Thyon Nero was still the main object of affection of everyone around him. All the while, Lazlo was left in the dust, always being ridiculed for being impractical in his opinions and always seeming to have “his head in the clouds” 

Basically, Lazlo felt ridiculed everywhere he went. 

He always did, as if he didn’t matter, and his whole existence was to quietly serve the other person until his legs gave away and his soul ran dry. 

From an outsider’s point of view, Lazlo _should_ be envious. And who wouldn’t? It would make a lot of sense for the underdog to wish he was the hero. Between the two of them, they certainly had a lot of history. Oftentimes, Lazlo would find himself lost in thought about one of their earliest eventful meetings… Like, “how Thyon had needed his help,” and “how he tried but with no avail.” Ever since then, their relationship grew more strained, riddled with physical and mental scars unable to be completely washed away. 

And with some of these scars, Lazlo was the one who had to endure for Thyon’s sake… 

Actually, no... Everything was endured for Thyon’s sake. 

There wasn’t a moment Lazlo didn’t offer up his services. He wanted to feel useful somehow; he wanted a win, even if it would only be one time. But everytime he gave into Thyon Nero’s requests, he found himself on the short end of the stick. Just like now, Lazlo was willingly heeding to Thyon’s beck and call, even if it cost him. 

Even if this was the case, envy was still the last thing Lazlo felt. That didn’t mean he wasn’t entirely comfortable with being complacent. He certainly understood his situation was unfair. After all, it seemed as if every opportunity he had was snatched away by Thyon, leaving him in the dust and in unshed tears over lost dreams. However, in the midst of it all, Lazlo never _truly_ felt regret for everything he has done up until now… 

_Not yet at least._

Lazlo only wished that Thyon would turn to him, at least one time, and finally thank him for everything he’s given him. Whether that was for something simple like his time or for something more extreme... 

Yet Lazlo never wanted to force the gratitude out of Thyon—God knows what the other’s extreme pride was like whenever it came to these things—but it would certainly feel like a miracle… And Lazlo could use a few of those every once in a while. 

_If only he’d thank me._

_If only he’d look at me, recognize me…_

_See me._

Lazlo laughed bitterly at that final thought. A twinge of unfairness returned in his heart. There was a limit to how much Lazlo could take and not feel regretful, and Thyon Nero was constantly pushing that bottom line. Yes, Lazlo didn’t regret everything, and he went with everything willingly, but the strain of it all was still present. 

_Thyon_ see _him?_ Whenever Lazlo was _seen _, it cost him something: dignity, confidence, his books…__

____

____

No, perhaps being _seen_ was something Lazlo couldn’t handle quite yet. There were still a handful of complicated feelings that Lazlo had towards Thyon Nero, but he knew that the latter would never step off of his pedestal any time soon to give him appreciation of any kind. 

Maybe when that day comes… Lazlo will let everything go. He was fully prepared to do so, sometime. It was hard to put the past behind him, but he was hoping that he would be able to one day. Once he could finally find peace then maybe this pent up… whatever… in his heart could finally be settled—which would be a huge relief. 

However, considering the current state of Thyon’s large ego, that day will probably never come at all. 


	3. Happily Ever After, and Then Some

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smexy stuff owo

At the moment, Lazlo was inside the dormitory, making his way towards the elevator to the top floor where he knew the single dorms were at. He’d never really been up there often, he himself lived on the lowest floor in the quadruple dorms since he couldn’t afford anything else. 

He also sparingly had the opportunity to make friends. All his time was poured into the library and writing his books. If not, then it was spent doing homework and some “light” reading. He didn’t really know anyone else up there, besides Thyon. Plus, the library didn’t normally do student deliveries (the perks of being Thyon’s “servant”), so there was no true reason to waste his efforts and go up there.

However now, Lazlo felt completely alienated when he pushed the top floor button. Helplessly, he watched the elevator’s metal doors shut him within the small space, caging him inside and stealing all chances of escape. The floor lurched, along with the lunch in his stomach. Lazlo saw from the corner of his eye the blinking buttons silently counting the floors, like a clock to his doom.

He really didn’t want to give his books away. 

The elevator stopped, along with the beating of his heart.

He really, _really_ didn’t want to give his books away.

The doors opened, along with his eyes, which he had apparently squeezed shut in order to block out the accusing, flashing floor buttons. The brightness swallowed him up, and his unease was a seed in his stomach that grew into a magnificent tree. Tentatively, he took a few steps out of the elevator before the doors closed, again feeling at a loss in an unknown environment.

One step.

His stomach twinged in pain, and his hands protectively clamped over the bag's handles.

Another step.

Pain again, hands squeezing.

Lazlo heard his heartbeat chaotically in his chest, reverberating against his rib cage, making it difficult to breath. Years of being in Thyon’s presence did nothing to settle the unrest Lalzo felt when being near him. He could never get used to it, even now.

Even if they came this far in their relationship, enough for Thyon to request his help over and over again, Lazlo’s anxieties did not quiet themselves. 

It took some time for Lazlo to figure out what it was that actually made him so nervous in the first place. In the beginning, Lazlo thought it was a kind of fear: the fear of disappointing Thyon again and again after all his previous failures. Yet later, Lazlo found that the “fear” he felt wasn’t quite right. 

Lazlo had always been a child with many worries, he wasn’t always the kind of person who optimistically looked at everything. He had his own phobias too, and they certainly did a number on his psychology. However, Thyon Nero was different from his other “fears”. The thump in his chest was suffocating, but not in the same uncomfortable way it felt as if he was a deer caught in headlights, afraid of the moment and dreading the next. 

Back then, since their relationship was still in its early stages at the time, young Lazlo had plenty of time to figure out exactly what his emotions were towards Thyon. He tried to find ways to test his theories. After all, he wouldn’t be called a researcher without analyzing the situation thoroughly. 

With several years of growing accustomed to Thyon’s extraordinary princely face, and his even more extraordinary nimble hands that liked to tease him constantly, Lazlo discovered it wasn’t “dread” that made his heart beat like this.

It was “attraction”.

But attraction at what? Thyon’s face was one thing, so was his body, but what about his temperament? Wasn’t it nastier than a riled up lion, more venomous than than a pile of vipers? What about it was so attractive to Lazlo?

Everything.

Lazlo thought he was crazy at first, but when he thought about it, when he really contemplated over Thyon Nero and his inability to hide everything from him, Lazlo couldn’t find anything in his heart that hated a single thing about him. 

Lazlo knew that Thyon had suffered a great deal. That was one of the primary reasons Thyon tended to lash out at others. It was because he had the weight of his prestigious father persistently burdening his shoulders. So it made sense to Lazlo that it was only a matter of time before he would snap. Since Thyon needed to look good in front of everyone around him, he had taken it upon himself to vent it all out on Lazlo. 

Normally, to another person, this behavior was intolerable. Yet Lazlo was never really like other people in the first place—afterall, it was his namesake to be rather strange.

In fact, Lazlo had always thought it was forgivable, as well as a grace, to be able to see this side of Thyon. No one got to see him in such a state, ever. Having someone constantly beating you with words could be volatile to some, but to Lazlo, it was different if it was Thyon. When they had met early on, the words he pummeled Lazlo with had hurt, but Lazlo gradually discovered that it was Thyon's trust—which there was just enough of—to show Lazlo his more weaker, vulnerable side. 

To Lazlo, Thyon was crying for help, but in his own way. A way that he was ashamed of—a way in which he didn’t wish to use upon Lazlo, with the sincereness of his expression, but the only way that he knew. 

Thyon Nero wasn’t good with true kindness, or casual gestures. He grew up in a world where everything was fake, and he ended up becoming fake too. His father had caused this, had beat him until there was nothing left but the fear of failure and the stench of blood. 

Then there were the people who trailed behind his father, giving Thyon snide looks and faux friendship at the expense of gaining power. No wonder his insides were as twisted as the world around him. Thyon was stuck in a continuous loop of phony relationships and calculating stares, and there was nothing he could do to remedy himself of the situation.

Only Lazlo could help, if only for a moment. He could aid him, even if Thyon never wanted to ask for it at all, or even if Thyon would tirelessly refuse all his efforts. 

But that didn’t matter to Lazlo in the least. 

He had come so far into building some kind of steadiness between them, even if it was filled with poisonous words and tireless berating. One day—Lazlo hopes—his efforts would mean something to Thyon. This thought alone had comforted Lazlo for so long, and it was just enough for him to keep going. In the end, he didn’t want to give up on Thyon, even if he was the one getting knocked down in the end.

Thyon Nero could hide behind his many walls, but Lazlo would come to storm through them all. He’d find that crack in the wall, or the closed doorway, and knock on it until it opened.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Lazlo rapped onto the door of Thyon’s dormitory after finally finding the room number and bypassing all the other students who lived on the floor. It took a few minutes and several clicking sounds of locks being unlocked before the door finally opened, a pile of wet, blonde hair greeting Lazlo’s nose.

He smelled of sandalwood and mint, Lazlo mused. Thyon was tenderly wiping his golden locks down with a moist towelette, obviously fresh from the shower. His clothes, white and well-fitted, clung to his skin, leaving nothing to Lazlo’s imagination.

“Ahem… I brought the books.” Lazlo tried his best to avoid looking down at Thyon’s tanned arms, lest he wanted another round rosy blushes creeping onto his cheeks.

Thyon said nothing, instead giving him a blank look, devoid of all feeling, and left the doorway open for Lazlo to waltz inside. Thyon continued to rub his hair with the towel wordlessly, water trickling down as he did so, and nonchalantly motioned for Lazlo to set the bag of books down on the floor. 

After doing so, Lazlo watched—albeit bemused—as Thyon disappeared back into the bathroom. After a little while, the faint sound of a hair dryer followed, telling Lazlo it would be a while before Thyon would return.

Not knowing exactly what to do, Lazlo patiently waited for him by sitting upon the sofa, pulling his legs under himself. He cradled his arm, worn from carrying about thirty pounds of books for half a mile, and let his head rest on the sofa’s plush armrest, closing his eyes momentarily.

When Lazlo came inside, he noticed that the room was neat and rather large for a college student’s dormitory. There was still the standard, single bed, and there was only one desk, but Thyon actually had the luxury of a closet, which other students only were allowed to have a pullout from under their beds. 

Lazlo also saw a few potted plants—well-cared for—and a TV with a game console attached to it. Normally, other kids brought these things too, but who else would be able to fit a large flat screen in their room, besides Thyon? Plus, that gaming system hasn’t even come out yet... Guess it’s one of the perks of having money and influence.

Behind his closed eyelids, Lazlo’s eyelashes fluttered like moth’s wings, picturing Thyon in the bathroom. Lazlo envisioned steam surrounding Thyon, making his view hazy. As Thyon would dry his hair, a droplet of water would slide down his throat, past his Adam’s apple, and would find homage in the duvet of his collarbone. Golden hair would shake loose and glisten brightly against the white fluorescent lights. 

Then Lazlo imagined the lushness of the hair, encircling Thyon’s face and high cheekbones, as it would whip back from the hot air coming from the hair dryer. Thyon’s lips would then purse as dry air entangled them, making them uncomfortable until he was forced to moisten them with his slick, crimson tongue.

Lazlo gave himself a hard slap.

_Oh, that hurt._

His face blossomed beet red and a large welt in the image of his hand formed, a reminiscent of being ashamed of imagining such a scene. Lazlo felt like he, too, should probably take a cold shower before Thyon got back.

However, before Lazlo could fully compose himself back together, the sound of the hair dryer was cut off suddenly, followed by a refreshed Thyon coming back into the room. When Lazlo heard the hushed footfalls of the other man entering, his eyes snapped open and he sat up ramrod straight.

As soon as Thyon came into the room, Lazlo finally felt as if he was finally intruding upon Thyon’s house space. 

“Is there anything else you need of me?” Lazlo questioned, trying to hide his previous guilt. “I got what I could find, some were checked out though,” he lied. 

Those books were actually in his own dorm, but he wasn’t going to say that. Lazlo had only given the few that he knew Thyon wanted. He couldn’t spare all of his treasures from Thyon Nero though, his favorite book was still in the bag by Thyon’s feet, because that one was specifically requested.

“Is that so?” Thyon Nero had cocked one eyebrow, not fully believing the other’s words from his guarded stance upon his sofa. 

_Why so tense, Strange?_ He wanted to tease, but thought it wasn’t worth the effort, so he held it in his throat, among the other things he desperately wanted to say.

“U-Uh, yes…” Lazlo looked very guilty now. Didn’t he want Thyon to succeed? That was what he thought he wanted, but he couldn’t help but hold a bit of selfishness at keeping the other books for himself just so that he’d have the opportunity to come up here again.

Thyon didn’t call on him often, an honor or a letdown, Lazlo couldn’t tell. His emotions were still in a weird mess of liking and disapproving Thyon’s demands. Whenever he thought about losing what he worked so hard for, it distressed him, but that amounted to nothing when he thought of losing the actual person behind those requests. The second thought left behind a more sickening feeling in his gut, and Lazlo’s eyes quivered slightly of that outcome becoming reality.

Afterall, this tug and pull of their relationship had come so far, the small amounts of trust that they managed to give each other had kept them going for this long. Lazlo didn’t want to give up just yet, not when there was still an ounce of hope. It was hard to imagine what he’d do without the other by his side. 

Lazlo knew he made Thyon better, whether the other believed it or not, but what Thyon didn’t know was how he made Lazlo feel.

He made him into a mess. 

A mess that wanted to live and breath for him, and a mess that wanted to punch him all at the same time.

Unaware of the boy’s sudden depression, Thyon Nero just wanted to tease him after seeing his guilty countenance. It was their unspoken language: to be teased and tease back. 

Sometimes, Thyon admitted, he went too far. He only realized that afterwards, and he’d regret it instantly, but he was unable to take back his words, and he knew that well. 

_So just how could he take them back? What else was he good other than making the other suffer and feel his unending dominance…_

Over time, his mad obsession over this boy—to always be on top of him, to completely win over him—had gravitated towards a new emotional territory that Thyon was surprised by, but an emotion in which he found solstace in. He found that he enjoyed this feeling more than whatever joy he could gain from continuously torturing the other party. 

This feeling, at least to Thyon Nero, was something akin to love.

_But was this really love?_

Thyon Nero knew nothing of the emotion. He didn’t live in a world where love was given without something attached to it. Thyon understood that there was a kind of unconditional love out there, but he had always laughed in the face of it. It wasn’t until meeting Lazlo and getting to know him more: his ticks, how he worked, his likes and dislikes, his expressions… That he found himself lost in the fantasy as well.

So maybe this feeling was love or something close to what he’d thought it was. However, love felt like a dream, like something Thyon would hear Lazlo go on endlessly about without a point to it other than “it simply is what it is and that’s all there is to it”. Unconditional made no sense to him, and it still didn’t.

What he felt for Lazlo was more primal, more on the savage side of things. It didn’t seem beautiful to him, like the kind of love stories Strange would sputter on occasion. It was something similar, in which Thyon wanted to treasure, but was it really? Was this not just obsession? Were there other types of love Thyon didn’t understand? 

It took a lot of years of understanding himself and his feelings to discover that there was still something elegant about his love that was present, something with heart. However, Thyon found himself irrevocably helpless in the sight of such a love since he couldn’t express that part of himself well, so it just translated to something rather... more devilish.

Even right at this moment, Thyon wanted to see the other boy twist and turn under his gaze. A thrill seeped through his bones at the thought: Lazlo Strange pleading with watery eyes, the hues of red he could blush, the heat of him under Nero. 

It was the kind of heat that would give Thyon more clarity than anything else had ever given him. Yet at the same time, made him lose all rationality with the apprehension.

The things he’d do, the places he’d burn with his touch, lips, hands...

Oh, he wanted this boy to be _his_ , and his _alone._

And this was finally his opportunity to take it.

“Hmm?” A smirk casually lit up Thyon Nero’s face, a hint of seduction in his eyes. “Now, just what am I supposed to do now? I need those books, Strange.”

Those books, in truth, were a ploy just to get Lazlo here. After all, they weren’t what he was really after. Of all the things Thyon Nero wanted, of all the things he could get his hands on, those books were nothing more than a ruse for the true prize; _a key that opened the door to this very moment._ An opportunity that was just begging for him to seize.

The opportunity to have Lazlo here, right now, in his room with him alone. Especially after he had showered and prepared for this moment.

Thyon knew he smelled fresh, and that his clothes clung onto him; it was more riveting that way. He wanted to see Lazlo’s expression: eyes that would purposely avoid him, a twitch of Lazlo’s fingers that longed to touch his perfect figure. He precisely noted these things occurring the moment he had opened the door and let Lazlo into his room. Back then, he was a snake turning over his prey’s senses, baiting him deliberately, more than amused at the sight of how Lazlo complied perfectly with his greedy temptations.

He wasn’t going to waste his chance now, so he seized the _key_ in his hands and opened the _door_.

This was it now, the moment was exactly how he planned it out. 

Thyon took a step closer to the sofa, his eyes narrowing into slits, and his blonde eyelashes dipping ever so slightly. He saw Lazlo grow stiff, visibly unsure and out of place. The sight of it made the corners of Thyon’s mouth rise up further into his cheeks. 

The nervous squirming of the other boy riled him up even more. It turned Thyon on with the thought of how the other could act this way—and more—under the influence of a mere touch, not just from his steady gaze. 

Oh, how Thyon wanted to devour him whole right now.

“So, tell me, Strange. How are you going to compensate me?” 

This was it now, Thyon sat down on the sofa, arm dangling dangerously close to Lazlo’s shoulder, resting on the sofa’s head. His face inched closer, too close for Lazlo’s comfort.

Lazlo couldn’t help it, he looked up at those shimmering lips opposite of his own. They didn’t appear to be dry from the hair dryer, as he had envisioned earlier, instead they were plump and rich; so full of vitality and waiting patiently for Lazlo to make a move to touch them. He felt his own lips quiver as well, and he blinked up towards Thyon’s direction, showing he was up for the request.

That look was all Thyon needed, it was an invitation for him to continue. So he did not hesitate and made his move. In the next moment, Thyon took Lazlo’s face in his hands, fingers playing with the roots of hair on the nape of the boy's neck, and drank him all in.

How lovely it was, Thyon thought. It was everything he had anticipated for and so much more.

The kiss was slow at first, with Thyon trying not to scare his prey away. His lips were closed and so were the other’s. Lazlo was stiff at first, but then he started to relax under Thyon’s restless vigilance. When Lazlo was finally more comfortable, Thyon tugged on the latter’s bottom lip with his teeth and silently asked for them to open. To which Lazlo happily complied with, just like he complied with all of Thyon’s requests.

Then a whole new door opened for the two of them.

The sweet nectar that dribbled from the corner of Lazlo’s mouth as they collided rejuvenated Thyon’s inner demons; the lushness of Lazlo’s lips against his own intoxicated him. The small, yielding tongue that sought out his insides, drawing out all of his deepest emotions that he’d kept hidden from everyone, gave Thyon a new kind of release. 

It was everything Strange had that gave Thyon a thrill, melting his will, leaving him breathless and hungry for more.

Lazlo made a soft hum just then. It was barely a moan, but it was enough to make Thyon’s head go insane. This sound, so small, and yet, loud enough to echo throughout Thyon’s ears, spurred his movements. 

Wanting to make the other create all kinds of delectable, sweet sounds out of delirium, Thyon began to kiss him more ferociously. His tongue drilled into Lazlo’s throat, sucking him whole. It was chaotic and exciting, wild and methodical. 

_All of it, all of Lazlo_ , Thyon decided, _every piece of him, was utterly mesmerizing._

They did not stop, they continued like this: interlocked, groping and listening for the occasional whimper that arose from Lazlo’s vocal chords. 

Along with the other sounds created from their bodies being pressed together, it was a symphony. Yet at the same time, it wasn’t. 

The rhythm was off, there was no melody to be heard, just a cacophony of different intermingling sounds. However, there was something magical there: the tone, the emotion, the way it worked into a well-orchestrated story. All of it became music, and it sung through the atmosphere and pushed through their ear drums. 

Thyon thought he could listen to it forever and ever, as many times as he wanted. _If only I could record it_ , then this wish would come true.

For Strange, he couldn’t stop the sounds as they came, even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. The sounds were surprising to hear from his perspective, they sounded so monstrous and inhuman. It was embarrassing to think that it all came from him, but at the same time, he still allowed for them to escape without holding back. 

The more that came out, the more Thyon was drawn to him, and Lazlo desperately wanted to have Thyon’s unwavering attention on him. He found himself powerless of his own mouth.

_And he savored every moment of it._

The golden man played with Lazlo’s hair as they wove their tongues together, then apart, then together again. 

_It’s tender, this juicy mouth of his_ , Thyon thought, _how enticing could Strange possibly be? And, how come I’ve never seen his true sensuality until now?_

Thinking this, Thyon took a risk and bit at the other’s tongue. A metallic taste entered his mouth soon after, and he frowned, thinking he had bitten too hard. However, Strange didn’t seem to mind, instead responding back to Thyon’s teeth with his own. Thyon got a thrill just then, and continued to play tag with the naughty, pink appendage, seeking out more ways to toy with the person within this grasp.

Suddenly, the hand that was lazily stroking the back of Lazlo’s neck grew bored, wanting to explore more enticing parts of Lazlo’s body. Thyon didn’t stop and changed the hand’s position to the hem of Lazlo’s shirt. 

Unlike Thyon, Lazlo wore baggy clothing all the time, so it was easy for Thyon’s hand to move around and slip in easily. Thyon’s fingers soon found Lazlo’s navel, marveling at the exposed skin. Then, upwards he went, until his hand settled on the place it was eagerly looking forward to touching this entire time.

 _Strange’s chest,_ Thyon praised, _is smooth, very unlike that of a grown man’s chest._ Yet that was all the more alluring for him. It made it effortless for his fingers to make slow circles around Lazlo’s pectorals. He felt heat and lots of sweat coming off of Lazlo, but that was all part of the charm. 

Without thinking, he slid his finger across the crevice of the man’s breasts, crossed the sea of scalding flesh, and made purchase on one of the rosy buds that slumbered there. He was about to awaken it, to make it tremble under his skin and to relentlessly play with it until Lazlo couldn’t hold his own.

Lazlo didn’t notice the casual touch on his nipple at first, but then he felt the firm pinch and cried out. Breaking his mouth free from Thyon’s hold, he shivered, tears forming in his eyes. He felt a kind of ecstasy at that one movement, and he didn't have any other way to explain it, but it felt like his brain became a foggy tangle of incoherent emotions. 

Thyon pinched his bud again and Lazlo dropped his head on Thyon’s shoulders, heaving from the gasp that had escaped his lips. The lower part of his body stood on end, and Lazlo looked in horror at the wetness that grew in his pants.

Thyon thought Lazlo was starting to break under him slowly, and turned the other’s head so he could lick at the fluids that escaped from the cute person’s mouth. 

_Everything this boy has is mine._

Thyon owned all of it and none of it was going to escape from his grasp. 

Strange made so many glorious sounds as his mouth was overtaken, and Thyon wanted to draw out every last melodious note that rang out and capture it forever. He needed Strange to know how stimulating he was making him feel, so he held nothing back and lost himself in the paradise that was Lazlo Strange.

Lazlo felt his tongue being pulled in by Thyon’s mouth, which was a warm bed for his own to sink in. As Thyon thoroughly distracted his mind, he was surprised when he felt his gums being thoroughly tickled by the other’s lush tongue. Lazlo sank further and further into Thyon Nero’s entire being, feeling as though the sear heat between them was fusing them together.

Whatever came out of Lazlo’s mouth, whether that be a mumble or a string of saliva, Thyon would completely capture it back in his own. That made it rather difficult for Lazlo to find moments to breathe. Thyon was truly a beast who was hard to be satisfied; the desperate desire that radiated from him was toxic and enticing all at once. Lazlo praised Thyon’s stamina, but at the same time, he dreaded what that meant for him. 

Through it all, Thyon did not stop his hands and continued to work them across Strange’s exposed buds, not giving Strange the time of day to get in enough air. As a result, Strange cried out soon from the incentive, breaking their hot kiss.

_Oh, no you don’t. The fun has just started, Strange._

Even though Lazlo had yet to recover, Thyon blew in his ears in order to get another proper reaction. Since Strange had taken the privilege of his tongue away, Thyon took it upon himself to tease the ears that taunted him instead. Strange’s left ear was closest to his mouth, so he prodded and licked the inner walls, causing Strange to tremble.

Liking the reaction that he was getting, Thyon continued to tease Strange with his hands and mouth, simulating him until Thyon knew he reached his limit. 

Just then, Strange opened his jaw to let out a silent moan, and then he bit Thyon’s shoulder as a form of revenge, to which Thyon heartily chuckled and halted his mouth’s escapades against the latter’s now pink and wet ears. With a final soothing and leisurely peck across the boy’s cheek as a reward, Thyon tried to make Strange sit up straighter.

He didn’t look to confirm whether Lazlo had come, but he had certainly felt it happen. This boy could not hide a single thing from him. It was impossible for him to, the inner-workings of his brain were not so complex that Thyon thought they were elusive to comprehend. Instead, everything Lazlo felt was shown on his face, and it was so gloriously, deliciously addicting.

Thyon couldn’t help it, he wanted to puncture the other’s wounds and huskily teased, “You came from just your chest?” 

Lazlo whimpered, looking like a puppy beaten on the ground with shame. His clear eyes turned towards Thyon now, an apology in them. Thyon knew it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t help but say, “Naughty boy. Are you going to leave me pent up like this?” 

Forcing the boy to look, Thyon motioned to the large tent in the crotch of his pants. Lazlo was speechless then, the words forming a question that he wanted to ask was lodged in his esophagus. However, he was too embarrassed to speak it out loud. 

So he didn’t.

He took one pleading look at Thyon, telling him he wanted more. His eyes turned down, and his mouth squeezed together to purse. Weak to the expression on Lazlo’s face, Thyon blushed, a first between them, and nodded. That was all the confirmation Lazlo needed, and in the next moment, he pushed Thyon on the sofa and unzipped his trousers.

Only to see a pillar, bigger than his own, standing proudly upright. Lazlo’s mouth must’ve flown open at that moment, because he saw a kind of appraisal in Thyon’s eyes, but it lasted for merely a second. Lazlo didn’t know what made him so courageous, but he tenaciously grabbed the other man in his hand, and started to pleasure him.

Thyon’s breath hitched, Lazlo wasn’t very experienced, but he wasn’t bad either. He felt a fire in him, and it left trails on the places of his member where Lazlo touched. _This boy_ , Thyon thought, _is going to be the death of me._

And he was. 

Thyon had prepared this moment expertly, wanting to be the one that pushed Lazlo to the edge of exhaustion and lust. But why did it seem like it was the other way around? 

Oh, how the tables had turned!

Thyon wasn’t letting his voice escape, he couldn’t, but he didn’t want to shut his eyes either and block out the scene. Lazlo was too sultry, his eyes too felicitous, that Thyon could not look away for the life of him.

Lazlo tormented him endlessly, rubbing his member with a rigorousness and stamina that Thyon didn’t know where it had come from. He watched uselessly as Strange would pause, touch the head, and then poke around the flesh delicately. 

But it was the phantom touches that caught Thyon in a storm. They were the ones when Lazlo would suspend a finger over Thyon’s lower part and not do anything but move in an up and down motion, without so much as placing the delicate hand there. Even without touching him, Strange managed to arouse Thyon’s insatiable hunger. 

Lazlo drew out every breath of Thyon, leaving him craving for more but never giving it. Instead, it left Thyon to want to take his hand and force him to touch it.

But Thyon never did. He laid down, keeping his voice in check as Lazlo did as he pleased. Never had Thyon felt this much passion. It was a new awakening in him, and he didn’t know what to do.

It took an excruciatingly long time, but soon Lazlo managed to make Thyon come with just his hands. _His hands!_ Thyon didn’t know whether to feel appalled or proud. This boy could end up ruining his mind in such a way, but he also felt ashamed that he couldn’t last a moment longer under his touch.

Just what did Lazlo Strange do to him to enchant him this much? Or was it the other way around? Maybe _he_ had caused Lazlo to become like this, like an insatiable monster.

_Well, not so fast!_

_Let me have my fill as well._

Thyon wasn’t going let things escalate in this direction, he couldn’t. He had way too much pride in himself, so much that he felt _obligated_ to be the dominant role. He was going to make Lazlo his, not the other way around.

With a twist of his arm and a shift in his body weight, Thyon pulled Lazlo, who was once on top of him, directly under him. With a light _thump_ , Lazlo found himself back to where he originally was and couldn’t help but let out a helpless squeal. Lazlo held an expression of shock, not one of anger at being stopped all of a sudden, but one of astonishment towards Thyon’s unanticipated vigor. 

Thyon thought this expression was rather cute. It was almost more adorable than the expression he had made when he came from Thyon’s touch. 

_Almost._

Thyon lifted up Lazlo’s shirt, taking in the marvelous view of Lazlo’s chest up close with moistened eyes filled with a ravenous urge. 

Oh, how he wanted to _destroy_ this boy utterly and wholly. 

Finally seeing Lazlo nearly naked ignited a fire in the pit of his stomach, making it difficult to hold back any longer. Thyon tried his best not to stare for so long in appraisement, lest he wanted his face to become more flushed than Lazlo’s was at the moment. Blinking away his haziness, Thyon went on ahead to work, making his fantasies into realities.

Licking his lips, he leaned down and nibbled at the other’s ear and made gentle touches against the other’s blooming buds across his chest. A sound had escaped Lazlo just then, more primal than before and more needy. After Strange had pleasured him, Thyon suspected that Strange had become even thirstier from the sight of his member.

_Well, this is unexpected._

Thyon couldn’t put a name to the emotion he was feeling, but he felt content with the thought of Strange becoming more riled up after seeing him. However, since Thyon thoroughly wanted to enjoy the moments leading up to the climax, he wanted to take his sweet time. He knew that the more he waited, the more Strange was going to beg, and the thought of that made him tremble in delight.

_Oh, this is going to be fun._

On the Strange side of things, Lazlo had relished his time giving Thyon pleasure, but when he was the one getting it, he could barely contain himself. He wanted more, desired it even. Nimble hands were working his chest like it was an intricate piece of machinery. With him squirming, it was almost too unbearable. He felt the pain of being pinched and overly teased, but the electrifying fire under Thyon’s hands caused an undeniable thrill that certainly outweighed all of that. Thyon occasionally tinkered here and there: a lick, a kiss… a suck. Lazlo felt so much heat with every touch. 

Sooner or later, he felt he was going to combust.

When indigo bruises developed after Thyon’s mouth lifted, the marks of being Thyon’s property, Lazlo’s head spinned. It was all too much. His toes began to curl, and his legs fastened closer to Thyon’s torso. A switch in his brain went off, and Lazlo found his last bits of sanity completely vanishing away without a trace, replaced with an insatiable hunger. 

He wanted this man, and he wanted him now. 

Strange couldn’t wait any longer. The more time that was spent on teasing him, the more Lazlo thought he couldn’t last another second.

“Th-Thyon. Please.” 

Lazlo found it excruciatingly difficult to get his words out. He needed him, oh, how he needed him. Yet that wasn’t all, a look towards Thyon told Lazlo that Thyon had reached his limit too, and was now ready for him. 

“I-I can’t… Ahn! No, I can’t wait.”

Lazlo’s breathing hitched, he knew his pants were finally slipping off, but he couldn’t tell who was taking them off anymore. Both of their hands were suddenly entangled, along with their legs and other limbs. Every part of Lazlo was wrapping itself around Thyon, offering itself to the other’s needs. Giving away everything and taking everything at the same time, like a sort of symbiotic relationship.

It was like they were becoming one in body, even though they still had a few steps until that was going to happen.

“Ah… huff huff… Thyon, I need—”

“I know. Me too, I need you too.”

“Now. Ah! No, I need… huff… Thyon...”

“Shh, I’m here. It’s okay. I’m here, just breathe. Okay?”

“Okay…”

Thyon stroked Strange’s hair to soothe his discomfort and make him feel less agitated. Strange was nearly in tears, from stimulation or from urgent pressure, he didn’t know. All he knew was that Strange was on the verge of breaking, and that he was waiting for Thyon so that they could break together.

Feeling suddenly moved, Thyon rested his head on one of Lazlo’s shoulders, affirming his presence to the other to reassure him, before starting to make preparations. On top of the coffee table was a bottle of lotion, to which Thyon swiftly grasped and poured into his hand. Since Strange’s pants had slipped away in the heat of the moment earlier, Thyon found his back entrance rather quickly. Lazlo’s lips quivered, just begging to be kissed, but Thyon restrained himself and focused on the task at hand.

Thyon took less time to apply the lubricant and even less time to place his finger at Lazlo’s backside. His sudden invasion caused Strange to gasp aloud, but he quickly covered the other’s mouth with his own to sedate the pain.

Only when he felt Lazlo relax under him, did he break free. Thyon took in Strange’s fully crimson face, tear stained cheeks and puckered up mouth, and he felt his chest leap out of his body. This person was just too coquettish, even when he was trying not to be.

“Lazlo… two fingers... they’re in.”

“Then. Thyon. Inside. Move.” 

It took everything in Strange to utter those words, and they were like a blessing to Thyon’s ears. Without hesitation, Thyon rubbed against Strange’s inner walls. Thyon took great care not to go too deep and cause the other too much pain. 

Yet either way, the slightest movement still stimulated the deepest reaches of Lazlo, and even though Thyon was barely trying to ignite Lazlo’s inner beast, Lazlo couldn’t help but whine from desire.

 _This was it_ , Lazlo thought. This is what it felt to have Thyon _in_ him. They were almost one. 

_But not yet._

That last thought made Lazlo moan in displeasure.

Thyon misinterpreted it and thought Lazlo wasn’t satisfied enough. He took one lasting look at Lazlo’s crazed expression and decided to pick up the pace. In reply, he increased his efforts, added another finger in, and aimed deeper inside at a certain spot he hoped would make Lazlo melt.

Certainly, like how Thyon was a master at everything, he had soon correctly guessed where Lazlo’s prostate was. He was then greeted with another short, staccatoed gasp as a result. Lazlo felt as if he was almost spent, yet Thyon still managed to draw out more from him. 

Strange’s pleas were simply too irresistible, topped with the appearance of his glazed-over eyes, misted with tears. Once Thyon saw Lazlo’s face deepened to the color of roses, his Adam’s apple bobbled, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. Taking Lazlo’s face in his other hand, he resolutely kissed him.

Thyon was almost finished prepping now, and Strange, whimpering along with his movements, felt as helpless as a mewling baby kitten. He could only wait for Thyon to give him his fill, and when Thyon murmured that he was ready, Lazlo finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ah, Thyon…”

Strange wrapped his arms protectively around the golden man in front of him, squeezing his eyes shut. This was his first time, and although Thyon had taken great pains to make him feel all the more secure, he couldn’t help but harbor a twinge of distress at what he’s about to go through.

But Lazlo didn’t want to take his time to get his emotions in check, he needed this man now, more than ever. He’s been waiting so long for this day, for them to come together like this and get rid of their grievances.

Now wasn’t the time to hesitate from doubt.

With a slip of courage drowning out his fears, Lazlo leaned forward into Thyon’s ear and whispered.

“I’ll take everything.”

Lazlo cupped his hand around Thyon’s cheek, feeling an unexpected moistness coming from the other’s eyes as they fluttered about. However, Lazlo only believed it was just sweat, and thought nothing of it. He wanted to laugh at how cute Thyon was currently acting, and his heart sung in his chest.

He continued in a soft voice, “So please, Thyon. I want you now.”

Thyon responded with his mouth, fully open like his heart. Today was filled with so many unexpected events even though he meticulously strategized this moment as best as he could. But nothing really prepared him for how he felt at this moment. He put his heart on his sleeve and Lazlo was wearing it for him. Kissing wasn’t enough anymore, but he still did it anyway out of sheer desperation at needing this man as close to him as much as possible.

“Thyon… I… love you.” Lazlo breathed the sentence out in between Thyon’s invading tongue. He looked at the golden hair that was a few inches from his face and reached out to tug it. The glossy strands fell between his fingers and felt as light as a butterfly’s wings. They held the beauty of wings as well, intricate in every way and awe-inspiring to look at.

Then Lazlo felt a wetness against his cheek and was astonished to see Thyon with tears in his eyes. Thyon had never cried since the time his father had beaten him when they first met. 

It was different then, those tears were out of pain and dismay. The world was not his own and it had ridiculed him, making him believe he would never be anything but a failure.

But now, the world shone again through Lazlo’s eyes. Lazlo was his world now. Thyon had not failed, he had gotten everything he ever wanted, Lazlo was proof of that. He had gained something more blessed and rich than any promising future his father had ever set for him. 

He had gained a treasure that no one else was allowed to see: the treasure of Lazlo’s affection and adoring expression. An expression he could only give him now, as they were almost becoming one.

Thyon couldn’t stop the tears. It was like years of pent up aggression and angst were finally let loose. All the negative emotions he’d ever felt until now cascaded down his face and was washed away in the form of pellet-sizes droplets landing on Lazlo’s face. Ashamed, Thyon wanted to hide his face, but Lazlo beat him before he could.

Lazlo cautiously reached out, letting his palm caress Thyon’s cheek. His thumb brushed over the other’s eyelids, cleaning off the salty tears and brushing away the stray hairs that rumpled his beautiful lover’s face.

_Lovers._

The word suited them, now more than ever. Lazlo found that he liked calling Thyon his lover. There was no one else Lazlo was content with that could bear this title better than his prince, especially here, right now. He briefly chuckled and drew his new lover’s face towards his own, kissing those wet eyelids. 

“Thyon Nero, man of my heart, I love you.” Lazlo bantered, half-joking, half-serious.

It took everything in Thyon’s arsenal to avoid wanting to cry again. His eyes wavered, a calmness firmly set in his expression, and he held tightly onto Lazlo. His face buried onto Lazlo’s shoulder, hair tickling his cheek and causing it to turn another shade of red for the hundredth time that day. Thyon just groped awkwardly at the man’s back, not really knowing how to hold him. One of his hands was behind Lazlo, still half entering him, but the other was cradling his head. 

Thyon just held him there, not one word passed between them for the longest time. Lazlo knew Thyon needed a moment to take his confession in, but he also wanted to see his lover’s face. Plus, he felt that Thyon had grown larger after saying the word “love” and he couldn’t handle not facing him right now.

He wanted to see him so badly, but he knew he had to be patient. He’s waited for this man for many years, he could wait a few more minutes.

Thyon, sensing the amount of time that passed, raised his head again and set his unwavering gaze at Lazlo’s deep-set eyes. He smiled, not one of his usually crooked, mischievous smirks, but a genuine, gentle one. 

So many emotions were filled in that smile, and Lazlo was surprised, once again, by all the expressions his lover could make in a single day. But before he could share his thoughts, Thyon occupied his mouth, once again.

This kiss was slower, less maniacal, and more sweet. Their lips burned and they held their breaths for a long time, Lazlo had it hardest because Thyon wouldn’t let go of him while he fondled his insides.

After a while, they broke apart, and Thyon managed to muster enough bravery to respond back to Lazlo.

“I love you too.”

Lazlo’s heart sang, and his head cleared up. The place down below swelled even more, and he thought it was starting to become painful. He didn’t care though, he wanted them both to release together. He would endure the pain for now until they were both satisfied.

“Then Thyon, can you give me all of you?”

It was such a simple thing to ask, but the request was even easier to comply with. Laughing, Thyon gently kissed Lazlo’s cheek and responded with the emptiness of his fingers. When Thyon was no longer inside, Lazlo clenched down uncomfortably at the lack of having something there.

His backside itched, he could hardly wait. Excitement surged through his veins, and his eyes sparkled, unable to wait anymore for Thyon to become one with him.

Everything blurred together in one motion. Thyon grabbing the condom, ripping it open and putting it on. Then there were the subtle words of, “Are you ready?” and “I’m going in.”

Then the pain. Lazlo felt that first. The fingers were one thing, but this otherness he felt in his behind, this large intrusion, made it difficult for him to breath momentarily. Trying to act calm, Lazlo gave an encouraging smile to Thyon, showing he was alright. 

Thyon hesitated for a bit, biting his own lip, uncertain of when was the right time to go in further, but Lazlo held nothing back.

“Thyon, kiss me.”

And that was that. 

Thyon tried his best to get rid of the pain as best as he could in small ways. He played with Lazlo’s body as he went in deeper in order to keep the other’s mind at ease. Lazlo bit at him, and hard, when he couldn’t take it. Yet neither of them wanted to stop, so Thyon pushed forward until he was completely inside.

Then he quickly remembered the spot that Lazlo liked so much and started to move, to aim directly there. Both of them grew lost in ecstasy: Thyon felt that Lazlo’s insides here heavenly, squeezing him so tight, and Lazlo found that Thyon’s member was divine, hitting him in all the right places.

They’re motions grew more intense, both of them on the edge of their climax. Thyon increased the movement of his hips and urged Lazlo to do the same, which he did, albeit with some difficulty. The heat of their breaths mingled and they looked at each other, faces flushed in passion and delight. They mutually leaned in and kissed until Lazlo felt a new heat fill him up and Thyon felt the splash of a warm liquid against his stomach.

They kept moving, even after the moment of their shared climax, unable to untangle their limbs. It was not time to part yet, they both felt, at least not until they both were exhausted until they could no longer move an inch.

But for now, they enjoyed their time and took it slow. The thick walls hid their passion as they did it several more times into the evening, and then throughout the night. Eventually they both passed out on the sofa, not wanting to clean up until they would wake again.

**Bonus**

Lazlo woke up dreary eyed. The night rushed back to him, and he blushed, unable to comprehend what possessed him to become so beastly last night. Next to him, he discovered that Thyon had been awake for some time, watching him.

“Good morning… boyfriend.” Lazlo shyly said, testing out the word.

“Good morning,” was the response greeted to him. Then he jokingly added, “Boyfriend.”

Lazlo reached out to grasp a tuft of fluffy golden hair and kissed the ends. He wanted to serve Thyon breakfast in bed, so he tried to get up… 

Only to discover that they were still connected at the hip. Lazlo dared not to move, because once he tried, he knew a milky-white flood was going to erupt out of his backend. Just the thought instantly made his face blanched, his flush returning.

Thyon understood his astonishment, but refused to pull out as well, for another reason entirely. “Going somewhere?” He quizzed, the corners of his mouth turning up.

“Um… I was going to make you breakfast but…” Lazlo looked down at where they were joined, his member flinching upwards slightly from the embarrassment.

Thyon noticed, obviously, and made a gesture of getting closer to Lazlo. After sloppily kissing his cheek, Thyon teased, “Breakfast can wait. The only thing I want to eat right now is you.” If that wasn’t enough to get through to Lazlo, Thyon also licked his lips with a smacking effect to make his intentions crystal clear.

Lazlo stuttered, “W-wait! A-are you c-certain?...No, THYON— AAAAAH!”

Thyon found that he enjoyed Lazlo’s screams very much as he ate his fill once again.

**Extra Extra**

**Lazlo:** God, I feel married.  
 **Thyon:** Do you want to be?  
 **Lazlo:** ...We’re still in college.  
 **Thyon:** I could take care of both of us.  
 **Lazlo:** Damn, rich kids. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secretly, I was gonna drop this, but I actually ended up finishing it. I don't know what my next project will be... I might go on hiatus or maybe inspiration will strike. Life's funny like that. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed.  
> (￣ω￣;)

**Author's Note:**

> Aha, hope you enjoyed part 1 of this trash fic. Liked the bomb bit lol? That was an allude... It's also my first smut fic so... aha.


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